Journal Entry  Hers
by forever fan
Summary: Nanny has a few thoughts she needs to get down on paper too


Title: Journal Entry - Hers

Author: Forever Fan

Rating: K+

Spoilers: A few

Category: Romance/Supernatural

Disclaimer: This property belongs to David Gerber Productions and FOX Television.

I make no profit and intend no infringement.

Summary: Nanny has a few thoughts she needs to get down on paper too.

Feedback: Yes, please

There are times I feel very content with my present circumstances. To say I am in a rut, or I am only fooling myself that my current life is satisfying is something for others to believe, not me. I find myself enjoying my work, the children I look after and the home I tend. The fact that they are not my children and this is not my permanent home is not something I dwell on. I am here to fulfill a role, to retain a position and to heal a loss. If that is not enough for me to make my life content, then I need to move on. If I find myself wanting more from this situation than is possible, then it is certainly time I pack my bags and take my place in the home that is waiting for me.

I enjoy my work. I enjoy feeling needed and appreciated. I enjoy doing a good job. There is a great deal of happiness in watching children grow and to move from one stage of their childhood to another. I have always loved children, and will welcome the time when I shall have my own to raise. Until then, I shall share what I can of other people's children: share the joys and hopefully lessen the burdens that parenthood may bring. I find myself of particular use in a single parent home; fulfilling the role of "mother" effortlessly. Although I find myself very attached to the children I live with presently, I know I shall relinquish my position gracefully whenever I am no longer needed. There will come a time when there will be a wife and mother in this home again, and when I leave, I shall leave with the knowledge that the home is ready to receive its new member, and also take my leave with the pride of a job well done.

Or so I tell myself.

I have been in this position many, many times before. Motherless homes have always been a sort of specialty with me, and I have been honored to prepare children for the time when they would once again have a permanent mother to care for them. A mother to love and care for them forever, a mother to share their triumphs and heal their sorrows, a mother to take her place as matriarch, a mother to give them more brothers and sisters and a mother who will also be their father's wife.

Over the years I have had joyful times at the weddings of many of the fathers of the children I have raised. I have happily welcomed the new mothers into the home, helped them with their transitions, and left the new family intact and thriving. What a wonderful feeling to leave a family healed and whole after the tragic loss of a mother and wife! And I treasure the collection of photographs of new babies that have expanded those loving families I have lived with and loved. And in the future when the photographs come from this family, telling the tale of a new baby that has joined them; I shall cherish those photos with deep happiness.

Or so I tell myself.

I know when I leave this home it will be expected of me to no longer take on the role of a faithful family retainer to another family. I know when I leave here my family will expect me to move into my own home, to marry the man they have chosen for me and to begin to produce children of my own to love and to cherish. And I should be joyful about that. I should love and honor my husband and make him a fine home complete with many children. Children that will come effortlessly into my life as the natural product of a love between a husband and wife: me being the wife and my adoring fiancé the husband.

All in all it is a very simple, lovely and perfectly planned situation. As soon as this family is raised to the satisfaction of everyone and is whole and complete again, I will take my place in my own home. I am a very lucky woman.

Or so I tell myself.

I have never allowed myself to consider any other option for my future life than to be the wife of my betrothed and to have his children. I have never allowed myself to consider living in any other home than the lovely house waiting for me in our village. My parents are there, all of my loving family is there, and he is there. We will live near the sea, we will have a robust, growing family and a large collection of animals to rival the ones I care for now. What a lovely picture that paints in my mind.

I have never allowed myself to consider the option of attaching myself permanently to any of the families I have known over the years. I have loved all of "my" children, and been fond of all of their fathers…but I have never let that fondness or affection grow into anything more. In each of the households, the gentlemen were lost without a wife beside them and a mother to care for their children. There was sadness and loss and grief that I tried my best to mend. By caring for those families in their deepest need, the children were able to flourish once more, and this enabled their fathers to pick up their fractured lives and find love again. In each of those families I was able to welcome the new woman into the home, never feeling as if she were taking _my _place for I had no permanent place in the household. I never wanted one.

Never was I tempted to be the mother in any of those homes. Never was I tempted to be the wife. Whether the home was rich or poor, whether the children were ill-tempered or charming, whether the father was disagreeable or welcoming…I was never tempted to stay – never.

I have told my family and my fiancé this same thing about the home where I live now. In assignment after assignment, in home after home this has always proved true so I made myself and family believe it was true about _this _family – and it is.

Or so I tell myself.

Oh, I think they are making too much of my attachment to this family. Certainly the children are the delight of my heart: they are sweet and intelligent and loving and I couldn't love them more if they were my own. Perhaps my attachment to them is due to the fact that it may be time I have my own children. Or perhaps it is because I know they will be the last children I tend before I have my own children.

My "own" children. I will always think of these children as "my own".

My family and my fiancé are concerned. They have never seen me so attached, so contented, so happy or so willing to remain in one place for so long. I know they want me to leave and want me to marry. I suppose I am ready to marry - if only I didn't have to leave them.

Yes, I want my own home, my own husband and my own children. But I don't want to leave this family. What does that say?

Yes, I am conflicted. Yes, I am confused. When I think about having my own home and children I only want _this _home and _these _children. And as for having my own husband…

Oh, how silly of me! I am totally alone and I'm blushing. As if anyone but me knows that I also don't want to leave _him. _How silly! I must be harboring some schoolgirl crush – I'm sure the Professor has had many schoolgirls fall in love with him and here I am doing that exact same thing.

Only I am not a schoolgirl. I'm not a girl at all anymore. I am a grown woman with a fiancé and family commitments and this is just one more job in a series of jobs. I can leave this family just as easily as I have left all of the rest. Well, maybe it is not as simple as that, but I'm not going to allow a little crush to get in the way of my future happiness or the future happiness of this family.

Recently I've noticed the Professor has had less of a social life than was usual for him when I'd first arrived. There have been no women around for months. I blame myself for that. He's even told me that with how well the house is run and how happy and healthy everyone is there seems to be no need for a wife or mother in the home. Of course when he told me that he was joking – or he seemed to be joking. These days there are times when I cannot tell whether he is teasing me or not. There also used to be a time, admittedly some months ago, when the Professor would come home from an evening out and tell me all about it. I was happy to listen, even to give advice, when he would discuss some woman he was dating with me. Hearing him describe the evening he had spent with another woman, I will admit to a twinge or two of envy, but I never allowed such feelings to show. At the time I thought it was my own feelings of loneliness – for my home and for my fiancé – that made me long to be squired about town on the arm of a handsome man.

What am I thinking? Of course the Professor is a very handsome man, but I have often been in the employ of good-looking gentlemen before. I am used to being in the intimate, domestic life of single men - why is he so very different? And why does my family treat this situation so differently from all of the others? No one ever showed up in Lapland or asked why I'd stayed on in Belarus after a mother had joined the family. I think they are showing too much concern. I could allay all of their worries just by telling them that the Professor does NOT think of me as a potential mate and that would settle everything.

If only I could tell them such a thing.

I may not always be forthcoming about everything when asked directly, but I have a great deal of trouble telling a lie. I cannot say to anyone in my family that he does NOT think of me as a potential mate without – stretching the truth. I would be lying if I told them he has never harbored such thoughts or feelings – although he has never said a word to me. I am aware of his – attraction – and that is all I will say. I find it hard to admit to anything else, even to myself.

Again, I am alone, and I am _blushing!_

But I cannot tell my family of his feelings – or mine – they would all insist I leave immediately. However, I am almost certain my Aunt Agatha knows – the Professor wasn't hiding his thoughts from her and it is very hard for me to conceal everything. She even teased me a bit about how handsome and eligible he is. Even now Aunt Henrietta won't leave California until I do and has made her feeling known that she does NOT approve of his attention and hidden intentions towards me. He's even begun to show some negative reciprocal feelings towards her, although he does not know why.

I know there are times when my feelings have shown in my eyes, as much as I have tried not to reveal anything. My aunts know this and I'm certain he has some idea.

But he can't tell how I feel – can he? The Professor isn't like the family so it is hard for me to believe he is aware. However, he is the only man I have ever known where my usual ability to disguise my feelings fail. I don't know if it is the power of his attraction to me that makes me unable to turn away from the impossible blue of his eyes, or if my own feelings completely overwhelm me. I just know the things I have seen in those eyes and the emotions I have felt –

There have been previous times when my caring for a man's household and his children has resulted in a misinterpretation of affection. That is very understandable given the circumstances and the confusion during the time of grieving a loss. And often men have more difficulty than women separating gratitude from love. I expected those emotions as part of the work. And although the men I have worked for were gentlemen in every sense of the word, there have been a few uncomfortable moments over the years. In all of those instances I was able to gently turn those feelings onto more appropriate avenues, often resulting in bringing new romance into the lives of those men, and eventually appropriate marriages.

However, that is not the situation in this household. Here it appears a normal and healthy dating pattern was disrupted by me, and all of my attempts to possibly turn the Professor's affections to one of the ladies in his social life have failed. My question to myself is this: did I fail because of his feelings or mine? Did I unconsciously sabotage bringing his attentions back to those women he was dating? What did I do to make him seem to lose interest in those women?

I know he wants a wife. I know he wants a lover. I know he wants his life and his home complete and I know he thinks I complete those things for him. And here I am yearning for a husband, a lover and a home of my own. I love this home and these children and how we are together. It is so very easy for me to pretend this is my permanent life; so easy to forget there is another life waiting out there for me.

So easy for me to deny that I don't want that life anymore.

There, I've said it at last. At least I've said it to myself. That's why it was so hard for me to honestly answer my family about why I am still here, why I wouldn't leave with my fiancé last fall, and why I won't leave now. I want to stay here. I want this home and these children and I want…

I still can't say it, not even to myself. Why is this so hard?

I am an old-fashioned girl. I know that's not exactly what's popular these days, but I am the type of woman who wants home and family. I've had a career, and a very good and successful one. I certainly love caring for children and when there is no mother available or the mother wants to pursue other interests and leave another in charge of her children – then that's what my job is for. I certainly believe women should have a career if they choose – I certainly did and do. And women should have equality in all spheres of life: politics, employment, and the rights and responsibilities of full citizens. I believe in all of the social equalities that women are fighting for these days. And I very much admire all of those "modern" women out there.

All of those "modern" career women are the types of women the Professor seems to prefer to date. His lovely late wife was a professional career woman too.

I could never quite be a woman like that: modern, sophisticated, liberated. I could never ask a man on a date or call a man at his home. I simply wasn't raised like that. I can't even allow myself to wear some of those daring, new fashions. I respect women who can do such things: I cannot. And if he thinks I'll ever dress like that for him or ever ask him on a date…

I'm blushing again. It is impossible to think I'll ever be the type of woman he wants.

We are so very different. The Professor has a very scientific and pragmatic mind. I can imagine the kind of woman he wants would think the way he does. He only _imagines _he wants someone like me because of the good job I do in his home. Certainly we have exceptionally interesting and stimulating conversations and I think he is very taken by my near constant stream of unusual facts and information, but that's only an amusement. So far I have avoided telling him of my Oxford education and I'm not sure he'd be very pleased if he knew. I'm sort of an "old-fashioned girl fantasy" for him – not the type woman he'd want in his home or in his life forever.

Still, if given some of the glimpses I've had into his fantasies are true, he's not looking for such an "old-fashioned girl" after all. I've noticed the ways he looks at me, and I think he often regrets my modest style of dress. Of course, I dress appropriately for the type of work I do and the role I perform. Maybe I'm not quite as timid as I think. If he were ever to ask me out alone, I'd certainly be tempted to wear something that might shock him out of his complacent view of me permanently.

I shouldn't think of such things! The Professor is my employer and I am a trusted employee. I have never harbored these thoughts before in any other household. I have been telling myself how content I am with the way things are and the way they are destined to be. I am to someday marry a man I have known and been betrothed to my entire life. I will be a dutiful wife and mother and have my beautiful home…

Yes, yes, so I keep TELLING myself!

Somehow I have to return to my feelings of contentment with my life. Perhaps I should confront whatever these feelings of attraction are once and for all. Perhaps we both should. And attraction is probably all that this is, isn't it? What would be the harm in one, little date? The worst possible thing is we would find out we had nothing in common beyond the professional role I perform in his home and we'd have an awkward dinner. Perhaps I'd spend too much money on a dress and the Professor would choose too expensive a restaurant and there would be a clumsy, dry, and tepid good night kiss.

"Clumsy, dry, and tepid good night kiss"? Yes, I suppose that's what I need to keep telling myself. However, I've had my experiences with bumbling good night kisses, and somehow I don't think his kisses would fall into that category.

Oh my goodness but it is warm in here!

No, what would be the "worst possible thing" is if the date swept me off my feet and put us both in a position that would be impossible to extricate ourselves from easily. Then he'd have to "let me down gently" and I'd be forced to leave the household in regret, embarrassment and pain. I've seen the Professor do that to other women. True, it was only once or twice, but I was always aware when a date went well beyond social friendliness. On those late nights I made myself scarce when he came home, not wanting him to feel he owed me any explanation. Those times had hurt me but I never wanted him to know that. I didn't feel entitled to those feelings. The Professor should be able to have his own relationships and make his own mistakes; he didn't need me to add any more emotional complexity. Still, I knew he felt something close to guilt because of me, and a tangle of unexpressed feelings left us both unhappy for days.

And those days were nearly as awkward as the days following any of his "lucid" dreams.

I have to admit: those dreams are as much my fault as they are the Professor's. Who knows who really starts these things? It's not possible to easily control the unconscious mind, so whenever we would both enter a dream state at the same time and our thoughts began to run along similar paths…

The first time it happened I do believe I was pulled into his dream by the sheer force of his will. The Professor's desire was so powerful and his imagery so vivid – it was long moments before I realized we were occupying the same dream space together. I remember being aware of his incredible eyes – they are usually the first thing I see in my dreams – and they anchored me to the experience. Then I remember feeling his strong hands on my shoulders and smelling his aftershave. I knew we were having the dream together when he whispered to me in that delicious melting chocolate voice of his that he was going to kiss me – so I closed my eyes. I could taste his sweet burning kisses all that night and throughout the next day.

I had recognized the dream for what it was – I'd had them before – but never anything so tender or so sensual. And it seemed to go on and on and on – feeling as if it had lasted the entire night. However, the next morning instead of exhaustion I felt only fulfillment and exhilaration. I could recall everything and wanted to store it all in my memory – in case it never happened again.

But it did happen again. Each successive dream became more vivid and more real until I could remember every tiny detail of our "experience" together. In fact, those lucid dreams would happen with a regularity that was addictive. That's why I'm not certain who initiated them. I started feeling they were possibly more my fault than his – after all, he was the one with the active social life and I was alone. Then my guilt began when after weeks of these dreams he'd stopped dating regularly. Was that because he felt his emotional and physical needs were now being met – albeit only in dreams?

Strangely, while all of this was happening Aunt Henrietta showed up. I've always believed she was sent by the family to check up on me. Then, after assessing the situation, she sent for my fiancé to marry me and to take me home. Aunt Henrietta has always been highly intuitive, although she's the only one who really believes in her "psychic" abilities. Still, I suspect either my aunt or my fiancé actually had hints of these dreams. She may have been appalled by them but I believe he understood them and wanted me to remain in the household to resolve my feelings. He was allowing me to decide if I would eventually come home to him, or if I would stay with this man who had captivated me.

But does any of this mean I'm in love and should remain here? I can admit that I love the Professor: he's a wonderful man and a fabulous father. He lives by the same values I do and is honest, honorable, responsible and involved in the community. He is a man of his word, and in addition to being a hard-working professional he's a caring and charitable person. And he raises his children to be the same: independent, courageous and generous. He's intelligent and warm and has a delightful sense of humor. He's understanding and playful and (almost) never loses his temper. Handsome without being vain, intellectual without being stuffy, he's also energetic and youthfully athletic. And if dreams count for anything, he's a passionate, considerate and inventive lover.

Sounds like the definition of being "in love" with someone, doesn't it?

But infatuation fanned by erotic dreams could sway any woman into believing she is in love. And how do I know those dreams aren't all in my imagination? That "clumsy, dry and tepid kiss good night" might be closer to reality than those slow, hungry, luscious dream kisses I've "experienced" with the Professor night after night. And if those relationship experts are to be believed, sex isn't everything in a relationship anyway. Even if he is the most marvelous lover in the world, that doesn't mean we could have a permanent relationship. Certainly, we have lived together for two years in harmony, but what would happen after I'm no longer an efficient employee and am suddenly a wife and mother with needs of my own?

I know he likes me. I know he's attracted to me. I know he turns positively _green _with jealousy when any man shows the slightest bit of interest in me and nearly became the personification of the green-eyed monster himself when my fiancé showed up! And I know he respects me. I appreciate that although he doesn't completely understand me or my family – he is open to our unconventional lives and our unorthodox outlook. But would he be so accepting once they are no longer merely _my _eccentric family but _our _eccentric family? And I want to have children someday. Will he be able to accept that our children will inherit half of my – peculiarities?

Oh, here I am going on about marriage and children and we've never even gone on a date. We've never spent any time alone except quiet conversations after the children were in bed. We've never been alone where we couldn't be easily interrupted by family or neighbors or a ringing telephone or doorbell. How would we even act on a date? I know the Professor would be charming, but how do you begin a relationship when you've been everything but lovers for two years? I know his habits and he knows mine. I know almost everything there is to know about him, and he knows more than he thinks he does about me. Would we make "small talk" as the expression goes? And what about that "kiss good night"?

Sometimes I just wish he'd come up to me and grab me and kiss me! Maybe the only way either of us is going to behave honestly around one another is to just let our instincts take over. However, if that ever happened I'd probably revert to my training and push him away and blush. Then the Professor would stammer out an apology and possibly never touch me again. Considering he's NEVER touched me outside of a dream state, I think we'd probably have a very long wait before he ever tried that again.

I am thinking too much about this. I started writing this to clear my head, and I feel all the more in a muddle. I generally never have trouble making decisions or knowing which way to turn in any situation. I have always trusted my instincts, my faith, and my belief in the rightness of things. If this relationship is fated to happen, it will. If it is my destiny to live out my life with this man – then somehow we will find our way to each other. The facts still remain that he is a single man in search for a loving relationship and I am an engaged woman. A very _confused and conflicted _engaged woman but an engaged woman with a future already planned for her. Maybe that's the happy life I'm supposed to live.

Or so I tell myself.

Where is the Professor now? I think he is in his den and he wants to talk to me. It's quiet now and the children are all in bed. There's nothing to be frightened about – whatever he has to say, I'll just smile and be acceptingly polite.


End file.
